#but i also don't feel the desire to strongly assert that point as i think it's risky business to draw too hard of a line in the sand-

[cosmicyeen]

Sudden desire to ramble out of nowhere BUT I've just come across a conversation people are having about AI images, and how some artists are feeling demotivated because they'll never be "as good as the AI," and that was a shock to me. I don't think I've ever looked at AI art with any kind of jealousy, nor with disappointment at not meeting that "level," even though the images are otherwise aesthetically good to look at.

So of course I wondered, why didn't I have that reaction to what is objectively technically proficient imagery? The desire to have my art look a certain way has always been with me, especially when I was learning as a kid, and admittedly I do still look at others' art with envy at times.

But, by default my brain never looked at AI art with anything other than the depth I might look at a billboard ad with. I see more or less pleasing images, and nothing to prop them up.

This isn't to say I think I have some superior viewpoint here; if AI art had been a thing when I started out (or even if i had just not found a different mindset around art as a whole) I likely would have felt that same kind of demotivation.

I'm also not saying art needs to mean something explicit or profound every time, the whole "AI images as "real" art" thing is a fascinating discussion imo, but whether one considers it art is also not really relevant to my point here.

This is more an explanation of a mindset I didn't realize I had been building, and it's kind of nice to look back and realize how my mind's changed over the years I've been drawing. There were probably two main points where this happened.

For one thing, the things I value in art are different, and thus my taste has changed. I used to wish my art could be hyperrealistic, and this is fine as a goal of course, but it wound up being a goal I drifted from over time as I found less and less satisfaction with just repeating images in front of me. I noticed realism suddenly having value to me not for what it perfectly reiterates, but for how much time and raw skill it takes to get to that point. Nonetheless, I wanted to keep going, to make my *own* images, to see what rules I could break and reinvent for myself.

Same goes for the art of others; I value the skill I can see behind each line, and I wonder what each stroke and dot and color choice means and comes from, what they choose to add and bend and leave out instead of just mimic.

The other, and main underpinning of this mindset finally happened when I got into spinning and fiber arts. I used to prefer the look of chunky "homespun" yarn and weavings, not understanding the appeal of the otherwise-visually-boring-threads of uniform thickness I would see. But, after I got into it and saw how much time and raw skill it takes to spin yarn, and I saw others share their skeins of a uniformity and lightweightness that I still havent gotten near skill-wise, the once uninteresting fiber arts began to suddenly become so much more interesting to me.

Chunky and art yarns are still good, don't get me wrong, but they're just the beginning now. Lace, something I never thought twice about, suddenly became a baffling complexity of knots and loops.

Embroidery, defined not just by the final image, but by every stab of the needle and pull of the thread.

A uniform white rag, now known by the patience needed to clean every fiber, spin every thread to such a light weight, and align it all perfectly on a loom.

Every line in a drawing, a shape someone has drawn a thousand times before, honing muscle memory and understandings of balance and color and contrast in both conscious and unconscious ways. As far as I'm concerned, the imperfect circle someone has drawn a thousand times is more interesting than the perfect one, and every perfect circle takes on a life of its own when used as a tool and not an aspirational goal.

Somewhere along the line, I began seeing a kind of awe in artwork that I can only describe as an awareness of the crystallization of time. And I think that's why AI images don't give me any sense of insecurity as an artist

[vadlings]

Represention of Autistic Frustration in Laios Dungeon Meshi

Like many other autistic people, I related strongly to Laios Touden while reading Dungeon Meshi. This post isn't going to spend time disputing whether he displays autistic traits or not—while I could do that, I want to focus on why specifically his portrayal struck a chord with me in a way the writing of most other autistic-coded characters has not.

Disclaimer: as the above suggests, this post is strongly informed by my own experiences as an autistic person, as well as the experiences of my neurodivergent friends with whom I have spoken about this subject. I want to clarify that in no way am I asserting my personal experience to be some Universal Autistic Experience. This post is about why Laios' character feels distinct and significant to me in regard to autistic representation, and while I'm at it, I do feel that I have interesting things to say about autistic representation in media generally. This also got a bit long, so I'm sticking it under a read more. Spoilers for up to the end of chapter 88 below.

The thing that stands out most to me in regard to Laios' characterisation is the open anger he displays when someone points out his inability to read other people. This comes up prominently in his interactions with "Shuro" (Toshiro Nakamoto):

The frustration pictured above (Laios continuing to physically tussle with Toshiro, using crude language toward him) becomes even more notable when you remember that this is Laios, who, outside of these interactions, is not easily fazed and often exists as a lighthearted contrast to the rest of the cast. Then we get to Laios' nightmare.

In Falin's words: "Nightmares love emotional wounds. Wounds you hold in your heart. Things that give you stress, or things that were traumatic for you. They aggravate memories like that and cause the dreamer to have terrible dreams." (chapter 42, page 10.) (damn. i'm properly citing for this post and everything.)

Thus, Laios' nightmare establishes an important fact: even if he is unable to recognise social blunders while he's making them, he's at least subconsciously aware that other people operate on a different wavelength to him, and that he's an outsider in many of his social circles (both past and present). His dream-father's disparaging words stress the impact this has had upon his ability to live up to the expectations set out for him, and we also get a panel of kids who smirk at him (presumably former bullies to some degree). Toshiro's appearance only hammers home how much Laios is still both humiliated and angered by his misunderstanding of their relationship.

I've thought a lot about anger as concomitant to the autistic experience. When autistic representation portrays ostracization, it's generally from an angle of the autistic character being upset at how conforming to neurotypical norms doesn't come easily to them; as a result, they express a desire to 'get better' at meeting neurotypical standards, a desire to become more 'normal' (whether the writing implies this is a good thing or not). In contrast, not once does Laios go, "I need to perform better in my social interactions, and try to care less about monsters, because that's what other people find weird." His frustration is directed outward rather than inward, and as a result, it's the people around him who are framed as nonsensical.

The Winged Lion starts delineating Laios' anger, and Laios' reaction is to think to himself, "It can sense all my thoughts, huh?" (chapter 88, page 16.) This is the scene that really resonated with me. I'm not saying I have never felt the desire to conform to neurotypical norms that is borne from insecurity, but primarily, I know that I don't want to work toward becoming 'normal'—I don't want to change myself for people who follow rules I find nonsensical. It's the difference between, "Oh god, why can't I get it," and, "WHY CAN'T YOU GET IT?" (phrasing here courtesy of my friend Miles @dogwoodbite). And for me personally, Dungeon Meshi is the first time I've seen this frustration and the resultant voluntary isolation from other people portrayed in media so candidly. Laios' anger is not downplayed or written to be easily palatable, either.

The culmination of Laios' frustrations in this scene wherein we learn that Laios has fantasised about "a pack of monsters attacking a village" drives home just how alienated he really feels. I need not go into his wish to become a monster himself, redolent of how many autistic people identify/have identified with non-humans to some degree as a result of a percieved disconnect from society (when I was younger, I wanted to be a robot. I still kind of do.)

Obviously, wishing death upon other people is a weighty thing, but the unfiltered nature of this page is what deeply resonated with me. The Winged Lion is laying Laios' deepest and most transgressive desires bare, and they are desires that are a product of lifelong ostracization by others (whether intentional or unintentional). This is the brand of anger I'm familiar with, and that my neurodivergent friends express being familiar with, but that I haven't seen portrayed in writing so explicitly before—in fact, it surprised me because most well-meaning autistic representation I've experienced veers toward infantilisation in trying make the autistic character's struggles easy for neurotypicals to sympathise with.

Let's also not neglect the symbolism inherent to Laios' daydream. "A pack of monsters attacking a village". Functionally, monsters are Laios' special interest—he percieves everything first and foremost through his passion for monsters. His daydream of monsters attacking—killing—humans, is fundamentally a daydream of the world he understands (monsters) overthrowing the world that is so illogical to him, that has repeatedly shunned him (other people). I joked to my friends that it's an autistic power fantasy, and it actually sort of is. And in it, his identity is aligned with that of the monsters, while his anger manifests in a palpable dissociation from the rest of humanity. This is one manga page. It's brief. It's also very, very raw to me. I think about it often.

To conclude, I love Laios Dungeon Meshi. This portrayal of open frustration in an autistic character meant a lot to me, and I hope I've sufficiently outlined why. Also, feel free to recommend media with autistic representation in the notes if you've read this far—I would really like to see if there is more of this nature. Thank you for reading. I'm very tired and should probably sleep now.

[mauvesockss]

Both Lucy and Mina would like the free love movement, actually.

Anon is responding to my tags on this post

#lucy would go bonkers upon discovering the free love movement...#you mean she Doesn't have to marry one guy and can perhaps... gasp... be with as many men as she likes?#I think mina would be a bit rankled by the more radical anti-marriage views...#hmmmm....

I'm not as familiar with the early Free Love Movement as I'd like, so if anyone has some insight, I'd love to hear it!

I definitely think Mina would be in favour of the more 'moderate' aspects of the movement. I can see Mina being a supporter of birth control and general sexual health measures as a way to improve women's health, access to education, and autonomy.

I can also see her being in favour of free divorce as proposed by Herbert Spencer; and his assertion that marriage consists of two components("union by law" and "union by affection") and that, upon the loss of the latter, the union should be automatically dissolved. I think this lines up with Mina's experience of her marriage being based strongly on her affections for Jonathan. I believe that Mina's attachment to Jonathan and, by extension, the institution of marriage would also make her leery of those in the Movement who sought to abolish marriage completely.

I'm leaning towards agreeing with @thethirdromana; "I'm inclined to say that her view is that women should have the vote one day, but not yet." -- and as a result, I think Mina would be put off by some of the more "radical" political beliefs of those in the movements. One example being Victoria Woodhull and her bid for presidency in 1872, and I think Mina may also find "Spiritualism", another closely connected movement, too 'unscientific'.

My following point is one I'm less sure about, but I feel Mina, like many of her time, would value self control. I don't have any quotes to back me up, but I believe this is an aspect of her character that is consistent through the novel. This is in contrast to Charles Fourier's assertion that suppressing passions is detrimental to the individual and to society as a whole. I think this point of view would be challenging to Mina, and represents a worldview she would be resistant to.

In contrast, I feel that Lucy(assuming she lived through the events of Dracula) would be shocked by, and drawn to the more radical sexual aspects of Free Love.

"Why can't they let a girl marry three men, or as many as want her, and save all this trouble? But this is heresy, and I must not say it."

Lucy expresses a true desire, and her immediate response is to deny herself this using socially learned rhetoric. I could certainly see Lucy thriving if given the chance to develop a new psychological schema of relationships, and her own experience of desire. As a result I think that Lucy, who has these more 'unacceptable'* desires, would come to appreciate the more radical aspects of the movement in a way that Mina may not.

*This is assuming we're not reading Mina as queer. Though Mina's conduct in her relationship with Jonathan challenges contemporary gender roles, and she is keenly aware of this, she does not seem to experience the same internal self-censorship as Lucy does. Instead Mina only goes against her own nature when prompted externally(VAN HELSING >:O ).

I will leave you with the following quote by Victoria Woodhull, which I feel would resonate with Lucy.

"I have a [...] natural right to love whom I may, to love as long or as short a period as I can; to change that love every day if I please, and with that right neither you nor any law you can frame have any right to interfere."

[donnerpartyofone]

Can't remember who, but some writer pointed out that narcissism is commonly mistaken as thinking you're great, when its more accurately described as seeing everyone else as extensions of yourself. The reason they're so hard to be around is that they don't and won't ever accept allow people to develop their own identity because other people are essentially puppets to them. Also, if someone calls them self an "empath" it's a dead giveaway that they're a narcissist

[uh this turned into kind of a rant and i can only hope it’s coherent, i’m extremely sick with allergies today and completely overmedicated, but i’m too compulsive to wait until later to answer this so...sorry!]

ha, that’s very interesting, like on the one hand psychopathy is often colloquially defined by narcissism and a lack of empathy, but then if someone claims to be strongly empathic then they might be a narcissist! i’ve never heard that before, but i can follow the logic. the puppet theory reminds me of something i heard about the psychology of babies, that they can’t conceive of separate subjectivities. it’s not like, I’M hungry and YOU have to feed me, it’s more like the whole universe is hungry, there just IS hunger, and its unjust persistence is a cause for outrage. (and maybe it’s worth mentioning that every obvious narcissist i’ve ever armchair-identified is usually kind of infantile)

this is also interesting to me because of something i was just thinking about what causes long term relationships (platonic and romantic) to break down. i suspect that when you’re close with someone for long enough, you start to feel like you and the other person exist on some kind of continuum. then there can arise (at least) two problems: 1) that the qualities that are unique to the other person, and not on the continuum, start to seem confusing and disruptive (where they may once have seemed exciting and new), and 2) you become so acclimated to the illusion of the continuum that you start to feel like it’s all just YOU, which gives some people the urge to seek out more external stimuli. (i know this sounds a lot like “familiarity breeds contempt”, but i think the problem is deeper than pure boredom, i think it involves what you feel makes up your own consciousness/identity/boundaries of self at a given time, what you believe is appropriate for you to control, and what remains excitingly alien)

...none of that is pathological, of course, it just seems adjacent to the problem of narcissism as you’re framing it. i definitely agree that describing narcissism as just egomania doesn’t cut it; if you were happily leading a functionally selfish life, then you might not have what we could describe as a problem for a doctor. and actually, there are probably a lot of sufferers who will never have the helpful realization that narcissism is what’s hurting them, because they don’t really experience it as the popular cliché of exaggerated self-love; they feel that they are the victims of a tragic, ongoing insult, committed by the world at large. (and we all know the world is unfair, so why should they question themselves?) the most clearly identifiable (and destructive) symptoms of narcissism result from the pain this condition causes the owner, not ego satisfaction but its opposite. your puppet theory is pretty analogous to the way i tend to think of it, as a mismatch between self-concept and the feedback that you get from the world. like, what you’re saying suggests that the narcissist thinks of other people as just appendages of himself, so therefore it’s upsetting when all these limbs of his act on their own volition, rather than dutifully responding to his commands the way an arm or a leg should. (excuse the “his”, otherwise i have too much “they” going on) the way i think of it is only slightly different, which is that the narcissist thinks of himself as objectively special and important, so it’s confusing and painful when other people do not prioritize him as such; anything short of deference and admiration fails the standard that he has assigned to himself. these failures are often perceived as abuses (rather than just the absence of desired response), and abuses are just as important as compliments, as they provide the narcissist with an opportunity to try to assert his importance. instead of accepting that he simply isn’t AS important to others as he is to himself (a relatively normal, expected condition of life), the sufferer sees himself as conspired against, obsessively hated, or if he can’t prove he is celebrated in this way, then he must be the “most” neglected and ignored person in the world. he always has to be famous or infamous, a hyperbolic being one way or the other; he can’t possibly be somewhere in the middle like the rest of us, since we only exist to respond to him.

take the classic (though admittedly extreme) example of ted bundy: it’s easy to say that he killed people because he considered his own pleasure more important than others’ pain--which he manifestly did--but the greater reality seems to be that he killed people in a rage caused by the cognitive dissonance he experienced, between self-image and feedback. he couldn’t get the girl of his dreams, or his dream job, or have the academic career he thought he would enjoy, or the fortune he thought he would amass, because he was above average at best in most areas in which young men are judged. the B- report card that life handed him so flew in the face of his concept of what he deserved, that he had to soothe himself, and prove that he was as powerful as he believed he should be, through revenge. not to say that this is like the ONLY problem with bundy or that it’s all this simple in such a case, but it’s pretty easy to say, very broadly, that a lot of his behavior came from this conflict between how he thought others should value him, and how they valued him in reality. (or at least, how he PERCEIVED this social value; certainly he had a very obedient long term girlfriend who worshipped him, but no form of acknowledgement could ever satisfy the narcissist’s fantasies) i think that’s not really THAT different from saying that someone like bundy thinks all the world is just an extension of himself, therefore he experiences pain and rage as the world relentlessly proves that it is not dependent its connection on him. to be completely fair, it can painful and enraging for anyone, when people contradict your beliefs about basic consensus reality: a fairly sharp, fashionable, with-it friend of mine once insisted that he had never heard of a crunchberry, and for a brief moment i felt sure that i might have to kill him, to restore order to the world, and prevent everything from descending into the chaos and darkness of a demimonde where ordinary american children of the 1980s are allowed to pretend they don’t know what crunchberries are.

[dmmeeble]

I have to strongly disagree with your premise that Victoria would never attempt to better herself, befriend Max or reach out to Kate in a post-Bay as it's simply not supported by anything we see in the game. Keep in mind, even before Victoria's encounter with Jefferson, we are shown several signs of Victoria's guilt over what she did to Kate, and also the beginning of her reaching out and trying to make amends. This occurs before Victoria has any proof of what Nathan did to Kate, something that she is still in denial over until the very last moment. In a Save Arcadia Bay setting, while Kate's suicide attempt is not there to serve as Victoria's wake-up call, Chloe's murder is. This starts the domino effect of Victoria discovering that a.) Nate *did* in fact drug Kate against her will, and also subsequently kidnapped and assaulted her and b.) that Jefferson was a monster who orchestrated the whole thing and c.) both were also involved in the death of Rachel Amber as well. As we have seen in the scene @riotouseaterofflesh mentioned, just having Max directly calling Victoria out with empathy and appealing to her better nature in Jefferson's classroom leaves Victoria visibly shaken. Finding out that her best friend and hero/mentor are murderous sex offenders, and that she unwittingly helped them further victimize Kate, is a very plausible way to make her question a lot of her life choices and start a speed-run of learning how to tap into her own empathy. (As an aside, Victoria has no reason to feel like Max ruined Nathan's life, because Max wasn't involved in the shooting. In Save AB, she remains hidden while Natahn kills Chloe, so at best she is a witness to Nathan's crime... not that one is needed, because we see that David catches Nathan red handed shortly thereafter, and, again, Nathan will almost certainly be confessing to much much more than that once he's in custody.) Further, Victoria's presence at the funeral has huge implications, namely due to the fact that her association with Jefferson and Nathan likely has her as persona-non-Grata with much of the school. She would have every reason not to attend Chloe's funeral, not to show her face around the people who loved the girl her best friend murdered. The most plausible reason for her being there, in my opinion, is that she and Max have bonded with each other over the course of the week, and that she, like Kate herself, is there to show support for her friend even though it puts her in an extremely uncomfortable situation. Victoria, Kate, and Max all bonding as they find a way to guide Max through her grief is another very plausible scenario that has been addressed well in a variety of fanfics. And lastly, it bears keeping in mind that Max herself will remember everything that happened prior to the storm. She will have seen Victoria's guilt, her hidden softness, her insecurity and even her desire to be friends. Even if Victoria was still reluctant to go on her journey of self-improvement (which I highly doubt given my points above), she will have her very own Jimminy Cricket on hand to encourage her to do so... and undoubtedly, Victoria will not be in a place to turn down a hand of friendship. (Also I don't think you meant it this way, but the assertion that the only way Victoria could become a better person is by being victimized has very unfortunate implications, so I would encourage you to rethink that point.)

It broke my heart to warn Victoria knowing that she would end up here, but this to me is still her strongest character moment in the game and I had to see it remastered. This scene is the most clear cut we get on Victoria's remorse, her feelings for Kate, and her desire to make things right. You can't convince me that Victoria, especially the Victoria of the Bae timeline who will *always* end up in the dark room regardless of player choice, will not do everything in her power to make amends in the future when her wish of seeing Kate again is granted. 🥺